The Moments that Make the Wizard (or witch!)
by Pride-of-Slytherin2
Summary: For the Becoming a Wizard Challenge.
1. Old Wounds

Written for the Becoming a Wizard challenge, for the Event**: Being left on the Doorstep**

- To write about someone trying to remember something from when they were very young. (100 words max)**  
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Draco examined the tiny, firework-like scar on his left thumb, frustration mounting.

He knew – he'd been _told_ – that the scar was his fault, caused by some sort of magical accident. Despite desperately straining his memory though, he just could not remember what happened. All he could remember was the criticism, the shame, the disappointment...

This first scar was so insignificant next to the others but his inability to remember aggravated him. He stared a moment longer, his reverie broken by the hand that slipped into his. As soft lips brushed his cheek, he remembered just how little old wounds mattered.


	2. Sensation

Written for the Becoming a Wizard challenge, for the Event**: ****At Number 4 Privet Drive**  


- To write about a dream (100 words max)**  
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As often with dreams, this one had no beginning, Hermione just seemed to find herself in the middle of it. She lay in front of a softly crackling fire, being kissed gently by a dark-haired stranger. As he kissed her more passionately, she was shocked by the feel of another hard male body pressed up behind her. Twisting, she kissed the fair-haired man behind her. Despite their robes and the fact the three were just kissing, this dream was so intense, so intimate, she couldn't think straight. She revelled in the experience, unable to focus on anything except sensation.


	3. Desperate Times

Written for the Becoming a Wizard challenge, for **Petunia's Chores 1  
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- Chore 1: making the bed - **write using the prompt "sleep"** (100 words exactly)  
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Severus rubbed his eyes, unable to avoid it any longer. Out of marking and too exhausted for anything else, he undressed and slipped into bed.

Sleep had eluded him since Dumbledore's death, so he'd begun working himself to exhaustion. He couldn't do that forever though, and he was reluctant to rely on potions, so sheer desperation had led to trying muggle visualisation...

Closing his eyes, he imagined himself in a beautiful reading room, a firewhiskey at his side and a book in hand. Surprisingly, Severus found himself not only relaxing, but slipping into a dream where he was not alone...


	4. Cold Silver

Written for the Becoming a Wizard challenge, for **Event: The Letter Arrives  
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- **Prompt:** **to write about a life-changing event.**

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Draco had always known this day would come, but he'd hoped to have a little more time first. How that would have helped, he wasn't quite sure, but maybe if he'd had more time, he could have prepared a plan, an escape route...at least a witty comment or two, surely?

Draco shook off his strangely light thoughts, aware his mind was skittish and flighty because of his nerves. He took a deep breath and slipped the cold silver mask over his face. Following his parents, Draco slowly walked down the stairs in Malfoy Manor, relieved that they seemed to be leading the way to the fireplace. At least if this didn't happen in his house, it would be one less negative association with the Manor.

He watched first his father and then his mother disappear through the fireplace, and then took a moment just to breathe. After a final moment to steel himself, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

Having never been to an Initiation before, Draco hadn't been sure what to expect, but he barely paid attention to the ceremony. He repeated the ceremonial words on auto-pilot, out loud swearing fealty and loyalty, but mentally forcing his mind to stay as blank as possible. Numbly, he swore to serve and obey, to provide the Dark Lord with whatever he desired (including but not limited to his wealth, possessions, future partner and property).

After the required words, he knelt in front of the Dark Lord, staring hard at the ground and trying to ignore the way his metal mask seemed to be heating as the ceremony went on. He held out his left arm, aware that this would probably hurt.

The Dark Mark formed on his skin, slowly, so slowly. With agonising pain, the mark filled in, almost like someone was physically burning the mark into his forearm. As he watched the skin blacken, Draco forced his mind to remain empty, fully aware of the Dark Lord's Legilimency skills. When the ceremony was completed, his arm was branded, and everyone had clapped him on the shoulder in congratulation, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

When he returned to the Manor, he sat in his room, staring at the ugly mark on his arm, tracing it very lightly with a finger before the pain forced him to stop. As he hissed in a breath of pain, he vowed to himself that from now on, he would follow no one's plans but his own. He'd gone through with the ceremony because he couldn't find a way out of it that didn't leave him destitute and on the run, but he didn't plan to follow in Lucius' footsteps forever.

He needed to figure out a plan, and maybe an ally or two, but never again would someone control him, never again would he be a puppet. He'd do what he had to until he could find a way out, but he swore that from now on, his fate would be his own.


End file.
